


Vitaphilia

by LegendaryBard



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, Ghost Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, james has a weird kink for living people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-27 16:00:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19016134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegendaryBard/pseuds/LegendaryBard
Summary: Ghost sex is weird.





	Vitaphilia

**Author's Note:**

> First fic on the archive that's riddler/gentleman ghost.
> 
> tenth fic on the archive to even have James /in/ it. 
> 
> First where he's one of the people in the main pairing. 
> 
>  
> 
> !A triumphant day for anyone who's into this crack ship!

“James,” Edward said, an eternally patient smile on his face, “It’s okay to be nervous.” 

“I am not nervous,” James replied, snippily. “The Gentleman Ghost does not  _ get  _ nervous.”

The infuriatingly beaming face of his beau told James that Edward did not believe him. 

The fact of the matter was very, embarrassingly simple: James was, despite his death, still very much a creature of passion; hopes, dreams, emotions, morality, relationships, love and lust. If anything, his death had only exaggerated these traits— dragged them, kicking and screaming, to the forefront of his world. 

He had been on the earth long enough to know that the gospels he’d been subjected to through his formative years was wrong. There was no cosmic entity that cared if you laid with mankind as you laid with womankind; no fiery pit awaited you if the same sex stoked passionate longings in your heart; and there was no unending punishment for carnal acts out of wedlock. 

So, once the harsh, initial hump was crested- that, of course, being the acceptance of James’s corpselike form- James  _ did  _ want to engage in more physical intimacy with his flame. He just didn’t know  _ how. _

He had not properly lain with anyone he was emotionally attached to since he was alive— (there were pockets of sexual desperation in his ghosthood, and women who would do _anything_ for money; especially shortly after his death, where his appearance was still more-or-less… _lifelike…_ but they were women of the night, not lovers, and he thought that ought not to have counted) and never with another man. 

So, now they had gone through all the motions- gotten to the point James had been wanting for some time- he balked because he wasn’t quite sure what to  _ do. _

His plan had gone thusly: 

1.) Ask Edward if he would be comfortable for physical intimacy of that nature; which Edward had agreed to. 

2.) Get Edward naked. There had been a gantlet of riddles and puzzles that he’d needed to get through— one for each article of clothing removed. But, eventually, he’d managed it. (James suspected Edward was feeding him easier riddles on purpose; but it had actually proved to be… a  _ unique  _ and  _ interesting  _ form of foreplay.) 

3.) Engage in passionate sexual relations. He was currently… working on this step. 

“If you’re not re—” 

“I  _ am  _ ready, _ ”  _ James cut him off. “I am  _ thinking _ about it, Edward. I want this to be comfortable for you.” 

With a patient, partial smile, Edward said, “I can h—” 

“For the love of God, man, I know how a penis works,” James responded, sourly. 

Edward lifted his hands in a gesture of defense; there was a sort of wicked twinkle in his eyes that James adored and hated in equal measure. 

Once he was sure Edward wouldn’t try saying anything else, James placed an enterprising hand on Edward’s thigh; he gave a slight, appreciative squeeze, enjoying the simple heat that a living body radiated. 

There was a big, thick artery around there somewhere… pumping  _ blood  _ and circulating  _ oxygen  _ and carrying all of those nutrients Edward had lectured James about in a condensed lesson about the human body some time ago. The man’s interest in teaching and learning was inexhaustible— which James supposed was a good thing, because he was a mostly empty vessel for knowledge and simultaneously a subject of intense intrigue.

… If James pushed down just hard enough, he thought  _ maybe  _ he could feel the man’s heart beating; it was dizzying.  _ Electrifying.  _ And gave just the appropriate courage for him to lean in and carefully fondle Edward’s flaccid member.

The reaction was immediate and pleasing. Edward’s muscles contracted, there was just the slightest stagger in breath, and after not too long, his length stirred under James’s touch. 

Edward remained in perfect poise, for the moment, but James could feel the delicious stir of  _ life,  _ and there was no stopping the ghost’s intrigue now. Blood was coloring Edward’s skin, flushing it rosy, and the rise and fall of his chest had become ever-so-slightly exaggerated. James could  _ feel  _ the cock grow warm in his fingers as it engorged with blood— 

And, with some mortification, could feel his own burgeoning erection.  _ Blast  _ his undeath, blast it for making the mundanities of life seem so  _ intriguing—  _

“Will I get to see you?” Edward asked, with a heavy exhale out of his nose.

“I cannot possibly imagine anything that would kill your erection faster,  _ vita,”  _ James told him, gingerly running his thumb up the side of the man’s shaft. There was a vein there. It pulsed, alluringly, with dear Edward’s heartbeat. 

“Does it make any—” Edward let out a small, pleasured sigh. “— difference that I  _ want  _ to see you?” 

_ Yes, it did.  _

With some reticence, James allowed his body to take on its true countenance, corpselike though it might’ve been.  _ He  _ personally thought that he’d rather see  _ nothing  _ before seeing a rotting man, but to each his own. 

His visible appearance was met with an acknowledging nod, but little else. Privately, James was grateful that Edward was not the type to say flattering falsehoods, or fake reassurances of beauty or handsomeness. There was nothing quite like overly saccharine compliments to make him shrink like a tortoise back into its shell. 

“If you… Don’t mind me asking…” Edward was starting to breathe a little harder now, to James’s delight. “What exactly  _ is  _ that wetness I’m feeling, James?” 

“Ectoplasm,” James said, trying to concentrate. He had known, of course, that bare skin on bare skin did not feel good for too long, and made the decision to lubricate with the most convenient source on hand. (Literally, a-ha.)

“Explain—” whatever else Edward was going to say was swallowed up in a low groan. 

Concerned, James began with: “Lifeblood, I think perhaps now is not—” 

“I want to  _ know,  _ James,” Edward’s rich voice deepened into an almost-growl, and James realized, with a start, that this was probably  _ sexually gratifying _ to him. 

For a second, the ghost was at a loss; should he speak low and sultry, or clear and concise, or—? 

“James,” Edward ground out.

“It’s what my body is made of, heartbeat,” James hurried to say, low and careful. His thumb made a pass over Edward’s glans, and the man made a deep sound in the back of his throat. “When I’m not concentrating on keeping my form, it begins to come away, like a vapour. Or, in this case… a liquid.” 

“Hmm. Are you having trouble  _ concentrating, _ James?” He did not need to look up to know Edward was smiling. 

“Hmph,” was James’s best and only reply. “Don’t flatter yourself.” 

After a moment, the ghost eased a little. He sat back on his haunches and figured his next plan of attack; mentally steeling himself for what he wanted to try next. He had seen lots of women do this in, ahem, _ gentlemen’s  _ establishments- and, of course,  _ experienced  _ it plenty of times himself in the receptive role- but never given it before. 

“You’re flickering,” Edward noted, snapping James from his stratagems. 

“I’m what?” James asked, distracted.

“You’re flickering.” Edward repeated, sucking a breath in through his teeth. “I can see right through you.” 

A nervous habit, James knew. 

Not that he was nervous. 

“You’re—” Edward’s head lolled. James became suddenly enamoured with the motion of his Adam’s apple when he swallowed. “ _ Ohhhh.  _ You’re fine now.” 

James waited a moment- listening for any potential complaint from Edward- before he leaned forward. As  _ soon _ as his mouth made contact with the tip of the mortal’s cock, Edward made a concerning noise; James, alarmed, pulled up almost immediately, and paused with his hand still poised near the base of the man’s shaft.

“What, Edward? Do you want me to stop?” 

“No, no— It was just colder than I was expecting,” Edward assured him, breathlessly. “Carry on.” 

Hesitantly, James began stroking again; he brought his lips to the tip, leaving a lingering little kiss. He received a shudder in reply, but no indication to stop. 

In honest truth, James had no idea what he was doing. Pleasuring someone with one’s mouth was very different when it came to  _ giving  _ and  _ receiving,  _ and he was sorry to say that he hadn’t been taking notes on how escorts were making it feel so good. He tried his best, though; laving with his tongue and leaving wet, lingering kisses.

( There may or may not have been the tiniest glow of pride when Edward laid his hand on James’s head and loosely pulled a fistful of his hair— he was clearly doing  _ something  _ right, since Edward’s groaning had both intensified and increased.)

The hand in his hair tightened. “James—  _ scientific question—”  _ (Edward had to gasp when talking now, James noted, which inflated his over-engorged ego even more.) “Your— Pharyngeal reflex—” 

“M’what?” James’s lips made an obscene sucking sound when they came away from Edward’s skin. 

_ “Gag reflex,”  _ Edward clarified. “Do you—  _ have it?”  _

“I don’t know,” James told him; he was bewildered for a moment, but then the indirect request made itself apparent. “Ah.  _ Oh. _ I suppose we could find out.” 

Edward nodded, relieved he’d caught on. 

James hesitated a moment- facing the glistening cock and wondering  _ how the hell is all of that going to fit in my mouth-  _ before he parted his lips and sank down on it. In one swift motion, he took it to the root and remained there. 

Edward threw his head back with a barely restrained curse; the hand in James’s hair tightened to the point of pain, and just as quickly loosened.

_ “Lord,”  _ Edward muttered to himself. He regained his composure with striking speed; much faster than James thought he would. “James. Is that a no on gag reflex?” 

James was a little preoccupied with the hot, throbbing erection in his mouth; he had been stricken with the most horribly strange thought he’d ever had:  _ feeling it pulse was almost like having a heartbeat in his own body again.  _

Once he processed what Edward had said, he tried to look up at him; only then realizing that he  _ must’ve  _ looked like an alley tramp who thought she was being sultry by looking at you while she still had your cock in her mouth. He quickly lowered his gaze again. 

“Nrrrh,” He responded. Edward made a funny little noise. 

“Is that a no?”

“Yrrrh.” Yet again, talking wrung another odd sound from Edward. James had no idea if it was because of his strange fetish or if the vibrations of his throat felt good— perhaps both. 

“You can pull up now,” Edward told him, shakily. “Start slow.” 

James, considerate man he was, heeded his darling Edward’s request and moved at a snail’s pace. 

When he had very nearly pulled all the way off, he sank back down. This began a rhythm; up and down, gradually quickening the longer it went on. There was no need for James to stop to snatch a breath of air, no hazard of choking; being dead had  _ some  _ perks, after all. 

_ “Hah—”  _ Edward exhaled, sharply. “James, if you could— move your tongue—  _ yes!  _ Yes, like that—”

James had no idea if Edward even knew he was doing it, but the fist in James’s hair was beginning to push and pull in time with James; there was the occasional little cant of the mortal’s hips, too, chasing pleasure. 

Seeing even the tiniest crack in Edward’s composure proved strangely…  _ bewitching.  _

Without prompting, Edward suddenly puffed: “You know— I think I like you better when you’re not talking.” 

The teasing tone he used was slightly ruined by the jaggedness of his sentence, broken with breaths and groans. 

“Hrghhrbgghrgh,” James replied, without breaking stride. Edward’s reply- a breathy chuckle- made him burn with indignance. The bastard knew damn well that James couldn’t reply to him properly right now, and he had the gall to laugh!

_ “What _ was that?” Edward asked, teasingly. 

He was a little  **less** smug when James broke the rhythm to meanly suck the tip of his cock; the ghost was satisfied to hear a high-pitched noise of surprised pleasure, and to feel the man forcibly shudder from the intensity of James’s ministrations. 

After he felt Edward’s lesson was learned, James went back to his old rhythm. He had a sneaking suspicion that Edward wouldn’t last  _ too  _ much longer— humans were humans, after all. Composed, dignified, controlled— didn’t matter. 

After a moment filled with only labored panting and wet sliding, Edward volunteered his voice again. 

_ “Ahhh—  _ James, you know I was—  _ joking  _ with you,” Edward’s breath was very staggered now. “You’re, ah, doing a good job.” 

His sweaty palm stroked through James’s hair, lovingly, and James felt absurdly  _ flattered  _ by such a small, innocent little statement. He redoubled his efforts, and that sweet caress quickly became a fist holding on for dear life. 

_ “James!”  _ Either a rebuke, a warning, or a cry of ecstasy; maybe all three.  _ “Oh, God, James!” _

James did what came surprisingly instinctually: he lunged to take Edward to the hilt, and swallowed. 

It wasn’t too long after his release that Edward began softening in James’s mouth, and James, as gracefully as he could, pulled off. 

He surveyed the damage: one slightly out of it Edward, pupils blown wide and face a deeper scarlet than James had ever seen it; a considerable smearing of purplish-white ectoplasmic sludge essentially  _ everywhere;  _ and, of course, James’s own poor, neglected arousal, which had stubbornly not flagged despite receiving no attention at all.

“Give me a minute,” Edward muttered, vaguely. “God. That was… something else.”

“I’ll fetch you some water?” James phrased it as a question, and when Edward nodded, the ghost rose, lightly hovering through a wall on his way to the kitchen.

By the time James  _ returned,  _ glass in hand, Edward had regained enough wits to move about. He’d gotten a gelatinous chunk of ectoplasm between his fingers, and was scrutinizing it closely. To James’s horror and partial disgust, he touched it to the tip of his tongue and made a slight, quizzical noise.

“Lifeblood,” James called to Edward, coming to rest at his side. The ghost hoped his presence would be enough to deter field-sampling any more ectoplasm. “Your water.” 

“Thank you,” Edward drank, then set it aside to look back at James, who was not ready for the oddly intense state Edward was giving him. 

“Alright, James,” Edward said, slowly. “My turn, I suppose; just keep in mind that I’ll have some questions for you during…” 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments appreciated!


End file.
